


You Certainly Have A Way With People

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of Klingons decide to pick a fight with the legendary Kirk while he's on shore leave.  Gaila defends her captain with much bad-assery ... and a bat'leth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Certainly Have A Way With People

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to igrockspock, janice_lester, and f_vikus for looking this over. This story contains some violence, rough language, and attempted/threatened rape. Nothing is particularly explicit, but it could still be triggery.

Looking back, Gaila had to admit that they'd been careless. It wasn't as if they hadn't been warned about the Klingons. Earlier that day, Spock had commed Kirk to inform him that _Enterprise_ sensors had picked up a bird-of-prey entering the Epsilon Ceti system, and shortly after that Risa Control had commed to warn him that two Klingons had beamed to the planet's surface.

"But," the representative from Risa Control had assured him, "our security personnel have the situation well in hand, and there is no reason – at present – to believe their intentions are hostile."

"Not hostile," Jim had muttered after closing the connection. He'd rolled his eyes at Gaila, who'd been kneeling on the bed, watching him. "They're Klingons. They're hostile in their _sleep._"

"So, what do we do?" she'd asked him, only half-teasing. "Cancel shore leave?" They'd just checked into their hotel.

"Fuck, no." He'd reached for her, tangled his fingers in her hair, and brought her mouth to his. "I hardly _ever_ get you alone anymore. You think I'm going to let a couple of Klingons get in my way? I'm getting you that drink I promised. You're going to wear that dress you've been teasing me about."

"The really short one, with the slit up the leg and the straps?"

Jim had kissed her forehead. "That one."

After that, he'd contacted the _Enterprise_ again, and asked Uhura to relay a message to everyone planning on beaming down to Risa. The message was succinct: vigilance was to be maintained, and anyone caught instigating an altercation with the Klingons would be rebuked severely.

"So," Jim had said after pocketing his communicator.

"So," Gaila had said, "the neckline comes down to about here." With her index finger, she'd shown him just how much of her bosom the dress would reveal. "And it's so soft, it's like—"

He'd cut her off with another kiss.

*

That had been five hours ago. In the time since, there'd been no sign of the Klingons, and Gaila's guard was pretty much down. So was Jim's. At any rate, he didn't seem preoccupied as he flirted with her over seafood and a bottle of sapphire wine. To Gaila's left, on the other side of a low stone wall crowded with white flowers, waves whispered against the sand, carrying curls of foam and tiny shell fragments. Above, Risa's moons gleamed through the restaurant's wooden rafters. Under the table, Jim's knee nudged her thigh.

_This is fun,_ Gaila thought, charmed by the setting and flattered by the attention.

She was not in love with Jim Kirk, and had no illusions about his being in love with her. But that didn't mean she didn't love being with him sometimes, or that she hadn't been looking forward to this evening since the announcement that the crew was due three days of shore leave. Not just the wining and dining, but the sex, which was pretty much a foregone conclusion by that point – if Jim didn't say or do anything stupid to kill the mood.

Watching him over the rim of her wineglass, Gaila considered the odds. He'd dressed up for her, which was sweet; she liked him in black silk, and she had the feeling she was going to love getting him out of it. More appealing than aesthetics, though, was the fact that he wore no indication of rank. It was as if he were telling her – without actually saying it, because he just _wouldn't_ \- "Tonight, we're equals."

She slipped a hand under the table and brushed her fingertips over his kneecap. He jerked slightly at her touch, and she heard the stutter of his breath, the clink of his fork against his plate. Their eyes met, and he said without a trace of accusation, "You made me forget what I was saying."

He'd been talking about the Kivi, a race of sentient cephalopod-like creatures, whose planet he wanted an excuse to visit. Gaila was interested in the Kivi too, but she said, with a disingenuous smile that probably didn't fool him one bit, "I don't remember either."

He covered her hand with his. She loved his hands, from the blunt tips to the cool, soft heel. With his thumb, he coaxed her fingers apart and began to stroke the flesh between her thumb and index finger.

"So," he said.

"So," she echoed.

"You know…" He turned her hand over and began tracing the lines on her palm. His caress was light and it sent shivers up her arms; her nipples hardened, and the need for a more intimate touch curled in her belly. "That dress," he said, and shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure out how I'm supposed to unstrap you."

She cocked her head teasingly. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of brilliant strategist? Isn't that what the history books are going to say?"

"Are you disappointed?"

"I'm shocked and dismayed."

"Well. Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"As soon as I've kicked your ass out of my bed, I'm going to contact all the major news networks."

"Damn it," Jim muttered, and she giggled. Then – "So, we're still going to bed?"

"Mmhmm." She nodded vigorously and rubbed his calf with her instep. This time, he jerked so forcefully that he almost upset his wineglass. The dark blue liquid sloshed dangerously close to the rim. "Fortunately for _you_," Gaila went on blithely, as if nothing had happened, "I can take care of myself."

"Not tonight," Jim said fervently. In the moonlight, his eyes were the same color as the wine. They crinkled at the corners as he smiled; she loved the crinkles. "Shall we?"

"I think we'd better," said Gaila.

*

A narrow, rock-strewn path led from the restaurant up the hill to their hotel. When she and Jim had first descended a couple of hours earlier, the sun had still been up, a smear of burnished gold across Suraya Bay. Then, the path had struck her as pretty; the rocks were shimmery white in the sunlight, somewhat like limestone, and scarlet flowers grew among them. Now, two glasses of wine later and with just the moonlight for guidance, Gaila worried that one or both of them would fall and fracture something.

She and Jim took several tumbles. The first time, he hauled her back to her feet. The second time, she hauled him back to his. The third time was after he'd wrapped a protective arm around her waist, so they went down together.

He landed on top, but he'd managed to get his other arm around her shoulders, protecting her head, so she was only knocked breathless for a moment.

"Are you okay?" His hands skimmed her face and hair, as if checking for injuries.

"Fine," she laughed. "I'm fine. We—"

She stopped as she became aware of the slide of silk against her skin, the arrhythmic beat of his heart. Briefly, she considered the setting. This was comfortable, she decided, and romantic. They had moonlight and the waves. The salty air mingled with his breath as it fanned her lips. Feeling deliciously wanton, wine and the surf thrumming in her blood, Gaila spread her legs and wriggled until her body and Jim's were better aligned. Now she could feel the press of his erection on her thigh. She wriggled again, increasing the friction.

He gasped.

"You know," she said brightly, "the skirt flips right up. I mean, if the straps are still giving you—"

He cut her off with a kiss.

She loved his mouth. His lips were so soft, and he knew exactly what to do with his tongue, how to lick her open and explore her, tease her, fill her without choking her. While his mouth worked hers, his hands drifted down her body, pausing on their way to her hips, to lightly caress the swell of her breasts.

She moaned and wrapped her legs around him. She wasn't exactly a private person, and this was Risa, after all. The chance of anyone stumbling over them here was slim, and the chance that anyone would be offended was slimmer still. She was wet. He was hard. She wanted him inside her. Badly.

"Now," she insisted against his lips. "Jim—"

He pushed her skirt up and hooked two fingers inside her panties. A greedy whine escaped her lips as his knuckles grazed her folds and his mouth sought hers again.

And that, of course, was when the Klingons found them.

*

They should have heard the rattle of armor, the crunch of heavy boots. Under other circumstances, they would have; they'd been trained to be alert and ready for combat. But she was so absorbed by him and he was so clearly mesmerized by her that they weren't aware they had company until one of the Klingons snarled, "So this is where we find the great Captain James T. Kirk. Rutting with a whore."

They snapped apart and rolled away from each other, onto their feet. But the sudden movement, coupled with the headiness of arousal and the lingering effects of the wine dizzied Gaila. Jim must have been similarly incapacitated; if he hadn't been, she was sure he could have dodged the blow aimed at him. But a Klingon fist struck him across the jaw and he fell backward off the path in a shower of dirt and white pebbles.

Gaila started after him, but the second Klingon seized her from behind, wrenching her arms back and holding her wrists in a bruisingly tight grip.

"_Jim!_" she screamed. Then, at the top of her lungs, "_Help!_" They were a good distance from both the restaurant and the hotel, but there was a chance someone might hear, even over the rustle of the waves. She gathered her strength for another scream, but the Klingon who held her clapped a hand over her mouth.

His palm was rough. The scent of him – smoke, sweat, and something almost cloyingly sweet that she had no wish to identify – filled her mouth and nostrils. She bit him. Hard. Her teeth sank into his flesh and thick blood pooled between her lips and gums, making her gag. With a snarl, the Klingon hurled her away from him. For a second or two, she teetered on the edge of the path. Then she lost her balance and tumbled down the hill.

She landed on something soft, something that gave a pained grunt as she tried clumsily to right herself.

Jim. He was conscious, but hurt. In the darkness, she couldn't tell how badly.

"I am disappointed," one of the Klingons said. "I had heard that Captain Kirk was a great warrior, a hero of the Federation. I have heard he defeated the Romulan Nero, and single-handedly destroyed the ship that obliterated an entire Klingon armada."

"I've heard those stories too, Krul," said his companion.

"We all have, Kresh," said Krul. "From here to the galactic barrier, they talk of the exploits of the heroic Captain Kirk. When I learned that the _Enterprise_ was headed for Risa, I thought, 'I must meet this noble Captain Kirk, who accomplished what a Klingon armada could not. I must meet him and challenge him, stake my honor against his.'"

Gaila could not see his sneer, but it was easy enough to imagine from his tone. Beside her, Jim was breathing heavily. She felt him move, and supposed that he was trying to push himself up into a crouch. She wanted to caution him, but his hand on her shoulder kept her silent.

Krul went on, "So I came to this disgusting planet, and subjected myself to its customs."

Under his breath, Jim muttered, "Guess they tried to give him a lei and a fruit drink when he beamed down. Oh, the indignity."

"Jim—"

"Shh." Leaning close to her ear and dropping his voice even lower, he said, "On my signal, I want you to run. Down the hill, toward the restaurant. Take my communicator first. It's in my pocket. I'll hold them off."

"You won't. You'll be killed."

"As soon as you can, call for help."

"_Jim_. You're being stupid."

"I'm being heroic," he retorted.

She wanted to smack him.

"One question remains," said Krul. "Once I have killed the famous Captain Kirk, do I dare tell the truth about our duel? Do I say that Captain Kirk fought nobly and died well, in a manner befitting his legend? Or do I tell the truth? That Kirk was nothing more than a puny human boy, who satisfies his lust with prostitutes?"

Gaila bristled, but before she could say or do anything, Jim bellowed, "Lieutenant Gaila is a Starfleet officer. _Go!_" He shoved her away behind him and sprang at Krul.

Gaila almost lost her footing again. It took her a few seconds to regain her balance, but once she had it she turned – and shuddered.

Jim and Krul were grappling. She couldn't see much, just silhouettes in the moonlight, but it was obvious the Klingon had the upper hand. Gaila started to pick her way back up the hill toward them, but Kresh jumped forward, bat'leth raised, barring her way.

She stopped short, flushing with frustration, and swore under her breath. She had no doubt Krul meant what he'd said: Jim was going to get himself killed, and there was nothing she could do. She couldn't even call for help, since he hadn't given her time to take the communicator from his pocket. Her own communicator was back at the hotel.

_Oh, Jim._

"Stop this," she pleaded with Kresh. "There's no point to this. We all came here in peace, we're not at war—"

Her words made no impression. She could see the sharp tips of his teeth as he grinned, the white gleam of his eyes. A chill rushed through her. They'd come for Jim, but that did not mean she wasn't in considerable danger. Gaila's hands curled in fists. She needed a plan and she needed one quickly.

Krul raised both fists and brought them down in a crushing blow on Jim's shoulders. He made no sound at all as he crumpled to his knees, but Gaila might have whimpered. Gripping Jim by the hair, Krul yanked his head back, exposing his throat. In the moonlight, Gaila could see his Adam's apple bob with each jerky breath he took. Her own breath seemed to have frozen.

She needed a plan _now_.

"Again, I am disappointed," Krul sneered. "Even unarmed, this victory comes far too easily. There is little honor in it. And yet…" With his free hand, he cupped Jim's chin. His thumb swept across Jim's cheek in what, to Gaila's bewildered eyes, looked almost like a caress. But Jim inhaled sharply and blood began to flow in a thin dark trickle from the slash Krul's nail had made. "And yet, it gives me pleasure." Krul's next pause was thoughtful. "Since you carry no weapon, what token shall I bring back to the Empire, as proof of our duel?"

"You should take my dick," Jim spat. "Be a real novelty for you guys. You, especially, Krul. Wouldn't recognize one if it—"

Krul might not have understood the slang, Gaila realized, but he certainly did not miss the scorn in Jim's tone. He flung Jim to the ground and straddled him. Krul said, "I will find another use for your mouth, human boy." She couldn't see what Krul's hands were doing now, but from the pained sounds Jim was making and the way he seemed to be trying to twist his head away, she guessed that they were forcing his mouth open.

Sickened, legs trembling, the taste of copper strong in her mouth, Gaila looked at her empty hands. And all at once, a plan came to her.

"I will make your whore watch," Krul rasped. "And the more you fight, the worse it will be for her. Yes, I will take her back to the _M'Targhh_ as my prize," he went on, withdrawing his fingers from Jim's slackened mouth and starting to undo the hooks that held his own pants closed.

Carefully and quietly, Gaila knelt. Kresh's gaze was still on her, but he was distracted by Krul's blathering. He didn't see her scoop up a handful of dirt and pebbles.

"She will warm my bed," said Krul, seizing Jim by the hair again and wrenching his head up. He had his blood-engorged cock in one hand. Rising to his feet and dragging Jim with him, he continued in a low rumble that was almost a purr, "And only mine, unless I feel your teeth. The second I do, she becomes the plaything of my men as well. And the brave Captain Kirk will die begging for mercy."

With what had to be the last of his strength, Jim punched him in the balls. At the same moment, Gaila sprang up and flung her handful of dirt and pebbles in Kresh's face. He snarled and spluttered, momentarily blinded, and Gaila seized the bat'leth.

Kresh was much stronger than she was, but she'd caught him by surprise, and the low ground actually gave her an advantage, as it allowed her to use his weight against him. She yanked with all her might and he lost his balance. She twisted agilely out of the way as he went down, wrenching the bat'leth from his hands.

It had been years since she'd held one, but memories of her training on Orion Prime came back to her with blessed swiftness. The Syndicate had made sure its girls were versed in all forms of foreplay; to Klingons, Gaila had learned, there were few things as arousing as single combat.

She looked up. On the path, Jim and Krul were struggling again. Jim was still on his knees, and Krul seemed to be clawing at his chest. Gaila heard the sound of fabric tearing, heard Krul scream, "I will cut your heart out of your chest! I will capture your ship and make your men watch while I eat it!"

Hefting the weapon, Gaila made a leap for broad, armored back of the Klingon. She brought the curved edge of the bat'leth down, right between his shoulder blades. She barely dented his armor, but the blow got his attention. Tossing Jim aside roughly, he snarled and lunged for her. But his pants had fallen to his knees, hampering his movement and giving her time to swing again. This time the bat'leth struck his side, knocking him back a pace or two. One more blow – to his sternum – and he crumpled. He landed on his back with a dull thud. Gaila flipped the bat'leth around and pressed one sharp point to his jugular.

Behind her, she heard Kresh approaching. "One step closer, and I'll cut this throat!" The footsteps stopped.

"Do it," Krul hissed. "To live, after being beaten thus, would be—"

"Don't you dare mention honor," Gaila warned him. Her voice shook with anger. "You don't know the meaning of the word."

"And a whore does?"

"I am no whore. But even if I were, this would be justified." She spat in his face. She'd have done it again, she'd have done much more, but Jim moaned. It brought her up short. No, she thought, vengeance could wait. She needed help: a doctor for Jim, security officers to take the Klingons into custody.

"Jim," she began, wondering if he could even hear her, "I need—"

Seeing her hesitate, Kresh finally seized some initiative. "Kresh to _M'Targhh_!" he shouted. "Activate beam!"

Gaila swore.

In the instant before they disappeared in a blaze of gold light, her eyes locked with Krul's. She stared hard into his face for as long as she could, memorizing it. If they met again, she promised silently, she would know him, and she would not let him escape.

Then they were gone, and all was dark and quiet on the path. Gaila threw the bat'leth to the ground and turned to Jim.

"Not gon'lie," Jim slurred. "Tha' was sexy, wha' you did."

"Oh, Jim." She dropped to his side. He was trying to push himself up onto one elbow, but his arm shook. She gathered him to her, cradling his head against her breast, stroking his hair with one hand while the other skimmed over his face and chest. Long welts and big, ugly bruises were darkening on the pale skin, but nothing seemed broken. Still…

He winced. "Ow, Gaila. Stop. That's—"

"Oh, baby." She leaned down to kiss his forehead, the cheek that wasn't sticky with blood, and his lips.

He sighed. "Least I got you that drink I promised. S'okay if I take a … rain check on th'rest?"

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay." But it wasn't, and the knowledge that it wasn't okay clawed at her. She could have lost him. And in such a manner… She closed her eyes. If Krul hadn't wasted so much time gloating, if Kresh hadn't been an easily distracted imbecile…

They'd been so lucky. And so stupid.

"Gaila?"

She opened her eyes. A shred of black silk slanted across Jim's chest, covering a nipple. She fingered it tenderly. "This was a nice shirt. I was going to tear it off you."

"Heh. B'lieve me, I'd've preferred you."

She forced her lips to smile as her fingertips drifted over his chest, gently tracing the wheals Krul's nails had raked. She felt his breath hitch.

"Gaila?"

"Shh." Stroking the skin over his heart, she kissed him again, hungrily this time. She didn't want to hurt him, but she needed to get the taste of him into her mouth, to get rid of the metallic taste of her fear and the memory of Kresh's blood. He curled against her, clutching at her, whimpering. He'd been frightened too, she realized. Badly. He would never admit it, and she would never try to force him to admit it, but she knew. Even so, she was startled by the violence of the shudder that rippled through him. She held him tighter, hoping to absorb some of it with her own body, deepening the strokes of her tongue and fingers, humming soothingly against his lips.

She could have gone on kissing him, touching him. She wanted to. Until they were both all right, or until they could start to believe that they would be, given time. He'd been right before, she thought sadly; they hardly ever found time to be alone these days. It would have been easy to lose herself in the warm sweetness of his skin and breath, in his physical and emotional need for her.

But there were things she had to do. Like get him to a doctor. Like tell Spock what had happened. The Klingons must be long gone by now, but she knew the name of their ship and its commander; they would be found.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss. As she dug in his pocket for the communicator, he murmured, "You honor me, you know. You, Gaila of the starship _Enterprise_, are my honorable warrior."

She flipped the communicator open and cocked an eyebrow at him – which he couldn't see, since his eyes had fluttered closed. "I'm sick of that word. If I never hear it again, I'll be happy."

"Won't mention it again. Doesn't change a damn thing, though."

She laid her fingers across his lips. "Scotty," she said into the communicator, "two to beam up. We'll need a stretcher."

"Aye," said Scotty, and she was faintly amused by the complete lack of surprise in his tone. "Relaying your message to Sickbay. Stand by for beaming."

Jim smiled against Gaila's fingers. "Don't forget your bat'leth," he said.

5/30/10


End file.
